Solitirium

Everything was so silent all the time. The walls seemed so thick that even nature's sounds outside could not penetrate the building. Elana and Damian were not speaking to each other, thus adding to the almost painful and eerie silence.

Suddenly, Elana sighed loudly.

"What?" Damian snapped, as if irritated by her making noise.

"What do you mean, what?" she snapped back.

"I mean what the hell are you sighing at?"

Elana stared at him incredulously, although he was staring straight up at the ceiling from his lying position on the couch.

"Well," she sarcastically retorted, "I'm surely not sighing because we're stuck together in this gateway to hell!"

He sat up and looked her straight in the eye, making her wonder where his initial kindess had gone, "If you're so damn pissed about being stuck here with me, why don't you conjure up a way to get the hell out of here? Hm?" he paused. When she neglected to reply, he made a shooing motion with his hands and said, "Go on."

Furious, Elana stood up from the floor and briskly walked into the bathroom, where she slammed the door shut and stood fuming. Despite the fact that she was enraged at Damian, she quickly decided that simply doing nothing was not an option.

Elana got down on her knees and threw open the cabinet under the sink, all the while mumbling profanities and cursing under her breath. "Piece of shit, Damian...at least I'm making myself useful...damn waste of life...if I get out, I'm locking him back in here..."

She pulled out all the normal things you would find in a bathroom: toilet paper, paper towels, cleaning products, even toothbrushes, tooth paste, shampoo, and wash cloths.

"I can't believe he gave us all of this, but no food." Elana noted cynically. Noticing that nothing there was useful to their escape, she placed them back in the cabinet and pulled the first of three drawers to the right of the cabinet, but it didn't open. "Fake drawers," Elana said, thinking of the exact same setup she experienced back at her apartment, "How damn useless." She tried the middle drawer, which opened, yet it yielded nothing but emptiness. Finally the opened the bottom one, but it was also barren. She closed the drawer, but not before noticing an odd yellow square stuck to the back. Curious, she reopened it and peeled off the square--It was a Post-It note. She flipped it over, sufficiently confused by the message on the back.

"What the hell?" Her confusion was easily justified, for all that the small piece of paper had to offer was four shapes: A circle, a triangle, a square, and a star. "What the hell?" she repeated. After standing to her feet, she opened the door and approached Damian, momentarily forgetting her anger towards him.

"I found this in the bathroom," she said, handing him the paper, "What do you think it means?"

He looked at it, his face displaying an identical amount of bewilderment. Suddenly, his eyes opened and he finally got up from the couch. "How many spaces are in the code on the box?"

The two prisoners dashed over to the cabinet where Elana picked up the box.

She smiled, "Four."

He smiled back. They had a clue.